D E S C R I P T I O N
My journey with the Casanova Club has been full of wonder andmagic and,dare I say,heartbreak.
More heartbreak thanI ever imaginedI couldendure.
But here I am, suitcases packed, chin held high, ready to marchinto July to meet my next Bachelor.
Cooper Diaz.
He’s disgustingly handsome. Abs for days. A smolder worthy of every billboard in New York City. And a devilish grinthat promises one thing: Mayhem.
Too badhe’s a complete jerk.
My first encounter with him at his beachside mansion in Nassau sends me reeling. I’ve dealt with my fair share of
arrogant pretty boys, but Cooper puts themall to shame, and he’s a stark contrast to the gentlemen I’ve met prior to him onthis journey.
It’s only a month.
I can survive a month without falling for his ‘charms’ and his it-must-be-painted-onsix pack.
Right?
One thingis for certain.
I didn’t expect what I got from this bachelor. And I sure didn’t expect how our time together ended,either.
Introduction
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The clock on the stove rolled over to display the time in mint-greenlighting.
10:15 a.m.
I had approximately one hour left before I had to head to the airport and catch my flight to Nassau, the capital of the Bahamas, and meet the next bachelor on my whirlwind Casanova datingextravaganza.
Cooper Diaz.
Billionaire. Playboy. Andone hellofa looker. “Piper,” Janie said from where she stood over a sizzling pan, bubbling with pancakes. “Call your dad. You’re running out oftime.”
I swallowedandlookeddownat my blank phone screen.
I wasn’t entirely sure why I had put off calling my father since I’d gotten home late the night before from Aaron’s. Certainly, I was a bit nervous to talk to him because I wasn’t sure where things stood with us. We’d fought last month about the restaurant and his surgery, but I’d been there when he went into recovery, and there hadn’t been any semblance oftension.
Of course, that could have been due to the fact that we were allonour best behavior. I, for one, hadn’t beenkeenon starting an argument with my very stubborn father minutes after he came out ofheart surgery.
So now, there I was. Back in that infuriating place of beingunsure.
Janie let out a dramatic sigh and turned from the pan to point her spatula. “Piper. Callhim. Now.”
“I will.”
She arched an expectant eyebrow as her eyes flicked frommy face to the phone inmy hands.
I waved her off. “Just let me make sure I’m fully packed first.”
Janie’s glare burned into my back as I hurried down the hall to unzip my three suitcases for the third time that morning and compare the contents to the list I’d downloaded on my phone: ACompletePackingGuidefortheBahamas. I was feeling a little more frazzled this month, and if I was goingto forget somethingimportant, it felt like now wouldbe the time.
Because thiswas the bachelor I was most nervous about.
Cooper hadn’t given me warm tingly feelings when we’d met back at the Casanova Club inDecember. Infact,the only feelings he’d given me were the “stay very far away” sort of feelings. To go from spending a month with Aaron—sweet, wholesome,kind,generous Aaron—to beingwithCooper was goingto be a huge shock to my system.
So, I’d packed accordingly withplenty of books and ample distractions,incase I loathedhimentirely.
My suitcase checkedout against the list onmy phone, just like it had the other three times I’d checked it this morning. Wishing I didn’t have to, I sat down on the edge of the bed and called my father’s cell. He’d be home, still recovering fromsurgery, andeither Phillipor my mother wouldbe there watchingover him.
He didn’t answer.
I sighed and let my hand fall into my lap. It was getting harder andharder to lie to my folks.
Sure, the bright shiny light at the endof the pathhelpeda little, but a lie was a lie, and the James family never lied. Especially to eachother.
I was sure, when all was said and done and they saw why I was doing this, they would understand. The million dollars in their pockets would speak for itself. And if they needed more time to process, so be it. They could be angry at me while we paidoff allthe debts andsavedthe restaurant.
My phone rang.
I yelped and nearly jumped out of my skin, sending my phone clattering to the floor. Cursing under my breath, I went to my knees to pick it upandanswer the call.
“Hi,Daddy.”
“Piper.” My father’s warm voice filled the line. He sounded a little tired but in high spirits. “Sorry I missed your call. Couldn’t get to the phone in time. You know how it is. I’ma little slow at the moment.”
“That’s all right. I knew you’d call back.” I shifted to rest my back against the side of the bed. I drew my knees up to my chest andrestedmy chinonthem.
“How are you?” he asked.
HowwasI?GoodLord.Whataloadedquestion.
“I’mgood,” I said.
I wasn’t. I was anythingbut good.
My body and heart were exhausted and heavy. The thought of settling into another man’s house for the month of July made me want to hurl myself off my apartment balcony andjust be done withit. I usedto hangonto the memories of the men I cared for to bring me joy and relief, but they now only brought pain, and for some reason, the end of this process felt like it was getting farther away rather than closer.
I was shuttingdown.
“How are you,Daddy?”
“Oh, you know. I’m hanging in here. Your mother and brother are taking good care of me. They’re working very hard. I owe them a lot. Keeping the restaurant open while stilltendingto me.”
I grimaced. Poor Mom and Phillip. And I thought I was tired.
My father sighed. “We miss you.”
I gnawed at my bottom lip. “I miss you guys too. A lot.” I wishthingscouldgobacktonormal.
“The year will be done soon,” he said. “You’ll be back sometime for summer break? Wait. Isn’t that now?”
“No. It’s a full-time program. I won’t be back untilthe end ofthe year.”
“Oh.” My father let out a short grunt of pain, and I imagined him sitting in his chair in the living room, trying to get comfortable without putting too much strain on his healingchest. “Well that’s all right, Piper. I understand. How
is school going, by the way? We haven’t had a chance to talk muchabout what’s goingonwithyou.”
“Schoolis… tiring.”
“Are youdoingallright,sweetheart?”
I pulled the phone from my ear, covered the speaker with my palm, and let out a trembling breath. I willed my bottom lip to stop trembling. Now was not the time to lose my composure. When I lifted the phone back to my ear, my father was askingfor me,assumingour callhadbeencut off.
“Sorry, Dad. I think I lost you for a second there. Yes, I’m doing all right. I just miss home. And you and Mom and Phillip. And I feel really bad abandoning all of you with the restaurant andyour surgery and—”
“Piper, don’t talk like that. School is important. I know I’ve done a poor job of showing it lately, but… I’m proud of you. You’re makingthe hardchoices anddoingthe right thing by you. And think of it this way. You’re more than halfway through. You’llbe back home before youknow it.”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
“What’s it like there,anyway?”
I hesitated. “At school?”
“Yes. What is your campus like? Have you made more friends,other thanthat Aaroncharacter?”
I smiled at my father saying Aaron’s name. It was a strange thing to have introduced one of the bachelors to my family, with them being none the wiser. It almost made the whole thingfeela little more realbetweenAaronandme.
I hoped he wasn’t in trouble with Jackson Lee for coming back home withme to see my father into surgery.
“I have other friends,yes,” I said.
“Girls?”
I laughed. “Dad!”
“What?”
“You don’t have to worry about me and Aaron. We’re just friends.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“Uhhuh,” I said.
My father put on a good show of pretending not to care about Aaron. We talked for a little while longer, and he told me all about how his recovery was going. Walking was easier. He still had some tenderness and pain, but his body was healingnicely. He joked about getting a zipper tattoo up his chest over the scar, and I decided to say goodbye when his moodwas good.
“Have a goodweek,Piper. We’lltalk soon. Allright?”
“All right.” I rolled to my knees before getting to my feet. “Love you,Daddy.”
“Love youtoo,sweetheart.”
With a tired sigh, I slid my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, zipped all my suitcases closed for the final time, and began toting them out into the living room. Janie was sitting at the island in the kitchen, devouring her pancakes, andshe offeredme some ofthe extras onthe pan.
“Thanks, but I’m good.” My stomach was unsettled and hadbeenall morning. The thought of puttingfoodinmy body made me want to hurl. I was simply too nervous.
“I get it. Didyouat least pack some snacks for the flight?”
“No. But I’llbuy somethingwhenI’mthroughsecurity.”
Janie nodded and twisted around on her stool. “Can we talk about Cooper,Piper?”
“What didyouwant to talk about?”
Janie shrugged. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. He’s not like the other guys.”
“I know.”
“No, like, he’s really not like the other guys. He didn’t start this thing with good intentions. His end game probably has nothing to do with you or a proposal. So just keep your wits about you,okay?”
“I will. Don’t worry, Janie. I already don’t trust him. He’s —”
“Adouche bag,” Janie finishedfor me. I chuckled. That pretty much summed it up. “Maybe he’ll surprise me.”
“No. I’m serious, Piper. Don’t give him an inch. He’s a playboy with a reputation and a lot of money, which makes himpowerful.”
“Janie, relax. I get it. And I hear you loud and clear. I’m going to try to spend my entire month on a beach chair, soaking up the sun and reading my books. Does that sound safe enoughfor you?”
Janie, my guardian angel, slash best friend, slash personal bodyguard, licked her lips. “If you’re in his line of sight, I don’t think youcanuse the wordsafe.”
Fucklove.
Fuck the idea that a man needed a woman to make himbetter. I sure as shit didn’t.
AllI neededwas this right here.
The ocean. The worldat the tips ofmy fingers. The rolling water under my board, and a promise of excitement that couldbe hidinginthe next wave.
Womenhadone role inmy life,andI likedit that way.
And so did they. Because I was damn good with them. Well,their bodies anyway.
I turnedina slow circle, pointingmy cherry-redsurfboard away from the shore and toward the horizon, where the sun was high in the sky and beating down on me and my buddies as we waitedto catchsome goodafternoonwaves.
So far,there hadn’t beenany action.
Davis, Mitch, and Luke followed suit, pointing their boards in the same direction as mine. The water was steady for miles.
Damnit.
Mitchloweredhimself downto his elbows. “Too badthere isn’t a little more action for you, bro. You might not get as much time out here this month, what with your new lady friendmovingin.”
“She’s not a lady friend,” I saidsourly.
A “lady friend” was a woman whose body I had access to whenever I wanted. A woman who shared my bed, my shower, andwore minimal, to no clothingwhile she was lucky enoughto stay at my place.
Piper James was somethingelse.
I hadn’t found a label for her yet, but I was sure a nickname wouldcome to me withinthe next couple days.
Mitch looked over his shoulder at me and arched a blond eyebrow. “Well,she’s a lady,isn’t she?”
“Sure,she has the appropriate parts,” I muttered. Davis chuckled. “Coop is paranoid she’s gonna be a prude.”
The others laughed. Luke, who was sitting closest to me, leaned sideways to knuckle my shoulder. “If she is, that’s karma. I hope she keeps her legs closedallmonth.”
“What didI do to deserve that?” I asked.
The three ofthemsnickeredat my expense.
Bastards.Allofthem.
I sat up straighter and kept my eyes focused on the stretch of turquoise water before us, searching for the slightest hint of a wave while my three friends ran with their current focus ofamusement.
“If she has any clue who youare, she’ll show upwearinga chastity belt,” Mitchsaid.
“Dude, if she has any clue, she won’t let him anywhere near her goods,” Luke saidfirmly.
Davis nodded his steadfast agreement. “If I was a chick, there’s no way in hell I’d sleep with you, Coop. No offense, but you’ve beenaround.”
“Damn straight, I have. And you know what that means? Experience. The ladies love me. There’s a reason they keep comingback for more. Youallare just jealous. Andpetty.”
Davis slapped at the thin layer of water gliding over the top of his board, spraying it up into my face. I wiped it away witha laugh.
“Shouldn’t youheadback upto the house?” Mitchasked. “Nope,not untilI catchat least one wave.”
Mitch frowned. “But she’s gonna show up any time now, isn’t she?”
“Your point?” I asked. Mitchscratchedat his chin. “No point.”
I smirked. “I’m sure all the other do-gooder Casanova boys put on a good show for her. I bet they pulled out all the stops and dazzled her with their fancy suits and charms. Fuck that. I have no intention of changing my lifestyle to accommodate her for a month. If she doesn’t like it, then guess what? There are eleven other dudes for her to choose from.”
“Why did you sign up for this thing, then?” Luke asked, cockinghis headto the side.
I shrugged. “It was somethingI couldwin.”
“Ofcourse.” Luke rolledhis eyes.
It was the truth. Whenyouhadthe sort ofmoney I didand access to anything and everything you wanted, sometimes
you needed to throw something new into the mix just for shits andgiggles.
Piper was my shits andgiggles.
However,she hadn’t beenmy first choice. Hell,she hadn’t even been my tenth or twentieth. I had a thing for blondes. Correction, I had a thing for blonde bombshells with big tits and tanned skin. Piper was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t my class ofpretty.
That wasn’t her fault, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to dazzle her with the whole Cooper show. What a waste of my fuckingtime.
I was going to surf. And when I was good and ready, I’d headback upto the house. If she was there, fine. If not? Also fine.
As if the ocean knew I was on a timeline, it shrugged beneath my board, gently rocking me up and then down as it crestedandrolledout towardthe shore.
I grinned. “I think we’re gettingour ride,boys.”
My friends straightened up, and for a few silent minutes, the four of us gazedout at our stretchof ocean; our paradise that ran off toward the skyline for miles and miles in front of my beachfront mansion. This was our private surfing area, and I’d had the house specifically built here so I could come out to this shore whenever I damn well pleased and catch waves.
A ripple inthe surface about a quarter mile out caught my eye, and I started turning my board back toward the shore. The others followedsuit, andwe watchedover our shoulders as it crept closer,pickingupspeedandheight as it came until it fully formedbehindus.
We paddled like mad and fanned out. The wave was close to breaking.
It caught up to us, and at the last possible moment, I popped up, planted my feet, kept my knees bent, and dipped the board down and to the right. I caught the wave as it white capped and broke, forming a two-foot tall tunnel behindme as I rode the front.
The others didn’t make it as far as I did. They never did.
The wave swallowed them as I rode her wide and into shore, stepping off my board as the rush of water foamed in the shallows. It washed over my head, and I stayed under, ears humming with the rush of water and the grainy whisper ofthe sanddancingacross the oceanfloor beneathme.
When I broke the surface, I hoisted myself up onto my stomach on my board and paddled to the shore. Once it was shallow enough, I walked the rest of the way. The ocean continued to tug and pull around my legs as if beckoning me to returnto it.
AnddidI ever want to.
But there was always tomorrow.
Mitch, Davis, and Luke were still out on their boards. I threw a hand in the air to wave, and they hollered “good luck” to me as they paddledback out to our sittingpoint.
The sand underfoot was hot as I made my way up the beach, but it was a heat I’d grown used to after living there for the last four years. My house loomed up above, set back from the beach by only fifty feet and built up high on a miniature mountain of rocky foundation to spare it from any potential flooding. It stood there like a modern castle, all
glass and white-concrete frame, proudly planted on the most expensive slice oflandinNassau.
Andshe was allmine.
I was halfway up the beach when a tight body in a neonyellow bikini caught my eye. She was spectacular. And she caught my eye as she approached and offered me a coy little smile that presseddimples into her tannedcheeks.
“Why hello there,” I purred.
She stopped walking. Sand speckled her ankles, which were both wrapped in glittering silver chains, and her toes were painted a bright shade of pink that matched the color on her fingertips. A silver belly chain hung around her hips and connected to a sparkly piece of jewelry in her navel that matchedthe pieces onher ankle.
She was a summer goddess, sun kissed, with golden hair andeyes the color ofthe oceanat night.
She bit her bottom lip and batted her lashes bashfully at me. “Hi.”
A shy little minx. One of my favorites in bed. Soft spoken andmeek inpublic,but wildandgreedy inthe bedroom.
If Piper wasn’t coming to my place this month, I’d have already slapped some pickup lines on this hottie and invited her up to my place. And judging by the way she was looking at me,it wouldhave beenaneasy yes.
“Do youcome here often?” I asked, already thinkingdown the road. If I couldn’t have her in July, maybe I could have her inAugust. She’dbe evenmore bronze by then. Delicious.
There were several reasons I’d moved to the Bahamas four years ago, but fit, tanned women in bikinis that covered
barely anythingwas definitely reasonnumerouno.
“I’m here for another week,” she said with a sweet smile. Her dimples were maddening.
“Damn,” I breathed. “Can’t swingit,sweetheart.”
She was missingout.
She frowned as if taken aback by my confidence. “Swing it?”
“Onany other day, youandI might have beenable to have some fun together. You know. Some drinks. Maybe a bit of dancing. A walk onthe beachthat ends withbothof us naked inthe water at midnight. That sort ofthing.”
She ran a finger along her collarbone and then down to the fabric ofher bikini. “Oh?”
I chuckled deeply. I’d called it. She was a minx. A freak in the bedroom for sure. I could tell by the hooded look in her deepeyes. “Ohyes.”
Her cheeks turnedbright pink.
I brushed past her, my shoulder gently grazing hers, and I heard her feet shift the sand underfoot as she turned to watch me leave. Having a woman look longingly after me wouldnever get old.
As I made my way back to my house, I considered how unlucky I was. The blonde girl on the beach was a solid nine anda half. Near perfect. AndI was flushingmy shot withher downthe drainbecause ofthe Casanova Club.
I should have left well enough alone when Jackson Lee first reached out to me to invite me to the club for interviews. It would have been better to keep going with my life the way it was.
But even a playboy billionaire got bored. And sometimes, youhadto throw a wildcardinto the mix.
Of course, I was hoping for something a little wilder than Piper James.
Sure, she’d showed up in leather pants and killer red lipstick,but I couldsee right throughher.
She was the girl next door, nothing more. And this bachelor didn’t go for girls like that.
Icould see why the word “billionaire” was used as an adjective to describe Cooper Diaz, the richest man in Nassau.
His house was not a house at all, but rather a generous, sprawling,obnoxious testament to his bank account.
I stared up at it through the back window of the luxury town car that had picked me up from the airport. My breath fogged up the glass as my driver, a woman in a pinstripe business suit with short, slicked-back blonde hair named Talia,twistedaroundinher seat to look expectantly at me.
She was severe looking and intimidating, and she’d told me on the drive over that we would probably see more of each other over the course of the month. I assumed she meant because she’dbe drivingme allover the island.
“We’re here,” Talia saidflatly.
I interpreted her words to mean, getoutofthe car so I canleave.
I licked my lips. “Um. Can you point me in the right directionofthe front door?”
Talia didn’t laugh. She didn’t strike me as a woman who laughed much, really. But her mouth quirked, and I sensed a little softness fromher,whichI appreciated.
I was super intimidated.
Talia pointed between the two front seats toward the house andtippedher chin. “Yousee there, betweenthe baby palms?”
“Baby palms?” I followedthe line she made withher index finger until my gaze settled on two short palm trees with wide trunks. “Yes.”
“Go between those. Follow the path down a set of stairs. Follow the bend. The front door is right aroundthe corner on the side ofthe house. Mr. Diaz appreciates his privacy.”
“Privacy?” I almost scoffed. How couldsuchaneyesore of a house ever be considered private? It didn’t matter how higha fence was built aroundit. There wouldbe pryingeyes.
I opened the back door of the car anyway and paused to leanin. “Thank you. I’llsee youaround.”
“Don’t forget your bags inthe back.”
Right. My bags. My bags which I would apparently be solely responsible for moving into the house. Three massive suitcases’worth.
“Thank you,” I said again, for no apparent reason. There wasn’t much to be thankful for. Talia had been reserved and quiet for the duration of the drive, only speaking when spoken to, and I was left to spend the half hour from the airport to Cooper’s agonizingover what the monthwas going to be like.
Andso far, it was shapingupto be just as disappointingas I’danticipated.
My sandals slapped on the hot asphalt as I moved around to the back of the car to the popped open trunk, and lugged my three massive bags out of it to line themuponthe pathin front of Cooper’s house. As soon as the latch on the trunk closed, Talia’s brake lights went out, and she pulled away, leaving me in the scorching heat with my three heavy bags andanevenheavier heart.
“Where’s a gentleman when you need one?” I pouted to myself,staringdownat my row ofbags.
Talia had said something about stairs, too. It looked like I was goingto be bringingthe bags downone at a time.
I started with the heaviest and tried not to think about how horrified the other men I’d spent time with so far this year would be to learn I had half pulled, half carried my own suitcases to the front door ofCooper’s mansion.
It wasn’t a short little walk either.
His front door was fairly far down the side of the house and through a winding garden of tropical plants of various colors and shapes and sizes, and by the time I had all my bags set up at the front door, I was dripping with perspirationandfeelinganythingbut cute.
Regardless, I was there, and I wasn’t going to bother tryingto fix myselfupfor Cooper’s benefit.
I rangthe doorbellandwaited.
Andwaited.
Andwaited.
I planted my hands on my hips as a gentle breeze picked up and caught the hem of my dress. “Are you fucking serious?” I mumbled, peering back and forth down the path throughthe gardens.
The jackass wasn’t evenhome?
I could hear Joshua musing over how unsurprising this was.
And Aaron teasing how at least his entrance wasn’t this bad.
Jeremiah would have just been furious that I was made to wait.
Miles would have been offended, too. “Quietly irked” were the words that came to mind.
AndEaston?
Well, he probably would have seen this coming and given me the heads-upinadvance.
Wyatt wouldhave silently stewed,jaw set inanangry line, and he likely would have waited here on the spot until Cooper showed up so he could give him a piece of his mind. Or his fist.
Seeing as how none of my gentlemen were here to fight for me, I decided to take action and set off down the path around to the back of the house. My temper was as hot as the weather as my sandals slapped obnoxiously over the paving stones laid in the grass. I emerged from the shadow cast by the monstrosity of a house in an immaculate backyard. Everything was green and lush, and beyond and below was a pristine white sandbeach.
And the ocean. A beautiful turquoise ocean. It reminded me of my time in Rarotonga with Miles. Good Lord, how I wished he was the one here with me instead of Cooper fuckingDiaz.
I stopped to admire the yard. There was an in-ground infinity pool and a staircase to the right that led down to the
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“Jerusalem like a city is Compactly built together.”
141. The first half of the service had been gone through on this particular Sunday without anything remarkable happening. It was at the end of the psalm which preceded the sermon that Sanders Elshioner, who sat near the door, lowered his head until it was no higher than the pews, and in that attitude, looking almost like a four-footed animal, slipped out of the church. In their eagerness to be at the sermon many of the congregation did not notice him, and those who did put the matter by in their minds for future investigation. Sam’l, however, could not take it so coolly. From his seat in the gallery he saw Sanders disappear, and his mind misgave him. With the true lover’s instinct he understood it all. Sanders had been struck by the fine turn-out in the T’Nowhead’s pew. Bell was alone at the farm. What an opportunity to work one’s way up to a proposal. T’Nowhead was so overrun with children that such a chance seldom occurred, except on a Sabbath. Sanders, doubtless, was off to propose, and he, Sam’l, was left behind.
142. The suspense was terrible. Sam’l and Sanders had both known all along that Bell would take the first of the two who asked her. Even those who thought her proud admitted that she was modest. Bitterly the weaver repented having waited so long. Now it was too late. In ten minutes Sanders would be at T’Nowhead; in an hour all would be over. Sam’l rose to his feet in a daze. His mother pulled him down by the coat-tail, and his father shook him, thinking he was walking in his sleep. He tottered past them, however, hurried up the aisle, which was so narrow that Dan’l Ross could only reach his seat by walking sideways, and was gone before the minister could do more than stop in the middle of a whirl and gape in horror after him.
143. A number of the congregation felt that day the advantage of sitting in the loft. What was a mystery to those downstairs
was revealed to them. From the gallery windows they had a fine open view to the south; and as Sam’l took the common, which was a short cut though a steep ascent, to T’Nowhead, he was never out of their line of vision. Sanders was not to be seen, but they guessed rightly the reason why. Thinking he had ample time, he had gone round by the main road to save his boots—perhaps a little scared by what was coming. Sam’l’s design was to forestall him by taking the shorter path over the burn and up the common.
144. It was a race for a wife, and several onlookers in the gallery braved the minister’s displeasure to see who won. Those who favoured Sam’l’s suit exultingly saw him leap the stream, while the friends of Sanders fixed their eyes on the top of the common where it ran into the road. Sanders must come into sight there, and the one who reached this point first would get Bell.
145. As Auld Lichts do not walk abroad on the Sabbath, Sanders would probably not be delayed. The chances were in his favour Had it been any other day in the week Sam’l might have run. So some of the congregation in the gallery were thinking, when suddenly they saw him bend low and then take to his heels. He had caught sight of Sander’s head bobbing over the hedge that separated the road from the common, and feared that Sanders might see him. The congregation who could crane their necks sufficiently saw a black object, which they guessed to be the carter’s hat, crawling along the hedge-top. For a moment it was motionless, and then it shot ahead. The rivals had seen each other It was now a hot race. Sam’l, dissembling no longer, clattered up the common, becoming smaller and smaller to the onlookers as he neared the top. More than one person in the gallery almost rose to their feet in their excitement. Sam’l had it. No, Sanders was in front. Then the two figures disappeared from view. They seemed to run into each other at the top of the brae, and no one could say who was first. The congregation looked at one
another Some of them perspired. But the minister held on his course.
146. Sam’l had just been in time to cut Sanders out. It was the weaver’s saving that Sanders saw this when his rival turned the corner; for Sam’l was sadly blown. Sanders took in the situation and gave in at once. The last hundred yards of the distance he covered at his leisure, and when he arrived at his destination he did not go in. It was a fine afternoon for the time of the year, and he went round to have a look at the pig, about which T’Nowhead was a little sinfully puffed up.
147. “Ay,” said Sanders, digging his fingers critically into the grunting animal; “quite so.”
148. “Grumph,” said the pig, getting reluctantly to his feet.
149. “Ou ay; yes,” said Sanders, thoughtfully
150. Then he sat down on the edge of the sty, and looked long and silently at an empty bucket. But whether his thoughts were of T’Nowhead’s Bell, whom he had lost for ever, or of the food the farmer fed his pig on, is not known.
151. “Lord preserve’s! Are ye no at the kirk?” cried Bell, nearly dropping the baby as Sam’l broke into the room.
152. “Bell!” cried Sam’l.
153. Then T’Nowhead’s Bell knew that her hour had come.
154. “Sam’l,” she faltered.
155. “Will ye hae’s, Bell?” demanded Sam’l, glaring at her sheepishly.
156. “Ay,” answered Bell.
157. Sam’l fell into a chair.
158. “Bring’s drink o’ water, Bell,” he said. But Bell thought the occasion required milk, and there was none in the kitchen. She went out to the byre, still with the baby in her arms, and saw Sanders Elshioner sitting gloomily on the pigsty.
159. “Weel, Bell,” said Sanders.
160. “I thocht ye’d been at the kirk, Sanders,” said Bell.
161. Then there was a silence between them.
162. “Has Sam’l spiered ye, Bell?” asked Sanders, stolidly.
163. “Ay,” said Bell again, and this time there was a tear in her eye. Sanders was little better than an “orra man,” and Sam’l was a weaver, and yet—But it was too late now. Sanders gave the pig a vicious poke with a stick, and when it had ceased to grunt, Bell was back in the kitchen. She had forgotten about the milk, however, and Sam’l only got water after all.
164. In after days, when the story of Bell’s wooing was told, there were some who held that the circumstances would have almost justified the lassie in giving Sam’l the go-by. But these perhaps forgot that her other lover was in the same predicament as the accepted one—that of the two, indeed, he was the more to blame, for he set off to T’Nowhead on the Sabbath of his own accord, while Sam’l only ran after him. And then there is no one to say for certain whether Bell heard of her suitors’ delinquencies until Lisbeth’s return from the kirk. Sam’l could never remember whether he told her, and Bell was not sure whether, if he did, she took it in. Sanders was greatly in demand for weeks after to tell what he knew of the affair, but though he was twice asked to tea to the manse among the trees, and subjected thereafter to ministerial crossexaminations, this is all he told. He remained at the pigsty until Sam’l left the farm, when he joined him at the top of the brae, and they went home together.
165. “It’s yersel, Sanders,” said Sam’l.
166. “It is so, Sam’l,” said Sanders.
167. “Very cauld,” said Sam’l.
168. “Blawy,” assented Sanders.
169. After a pause—
170. “Sam’l,” said Sanders.
171. “Ay.”
172. “I’m hearin’ yer to be mairit.”
173. “Ay.”
174. “Weel, Sam’l she’s a snod bit lassie.”
175. “Thank ye,” said Sam’l.
176. “I had ance a kin’ o’ notion o’ Bell mysel,” continued Sanders.
177. “Ye had?”
178. “Yes, Sam’l; but I thocht better o’t.”
179. “Hoo d’ye mean?” asked Sam’l, a little anxiously.
180. “Weel, Sam’l, mairitch is a terrible responsibeelity.”
181. “It is so,” said Sam’l, wincing.
182. “An’ no the thing to tak up withoot conseederation.”
183. “But it’s a blessed and honourable state, Sanders; ye’ve heard the minister on’t.”
184. “They say,” continued the relentless Sanders, “'at the minister doesna get on sair wi’ the wife himsel.”
185. “So they do,” cried Sam’l, with a sinking at the heart.
186. “I’ve been telt,” Sanders went on, “'at gin ye can get the upper han’ o’ the wife for a while at first, there’s the mair chance o’ a harmonious exeestence.”
187. “Bell’s no the lassie,” said Sam’l, appealingly, “to thwart her man.”
188. Sanders smiled.
189. “D’ye ye think she is, Sanders?”
190. “Weel, Sam’l, I d’na want to fluster ye, but she’s been ower lang wi’ Lisbeth Fargus no to hae learnt her ways. An
a’body kins what a life T’Nowhead has wi’ her.”
191. “Guid sake, Sanders, hoo did ye no speak o’ this afore?”
192. “I thocht ye kent o’t, Sam’l.”
193. They had now reached the square, and the U. P. kirk was coming out. The Auld Licht kirk would be half an hour yet.
194. “But, Sanders,” said Sam’l, brightening up, “ye was on yer wy to spier her yersel.”
195. “I was, Sam’l,” said Sanders, “and I canna but be thankfu’ ye was ower quick for’s.”
196. “Gin’t hadna been you,” said Sam’l, “I wid never hae thocht o’t.”
197. “I’m sayin’ naething agin Bell,” pursued the other, “but, man Sam’l, a body should be mair deleeberate in a thing o’ the kind.”
198. “It was michty hurried,” said Sam’l, woefully.
199. “It’s a serious thing to spier a lassie,” said Sanders.
200. “It’s an awfu’ thing,” said Sam’l.
201. “But we’ll hope for the best,” added Sanders, in a hopeless voice.
202. They were close to the Tenements now, and Sam’l looked as if he were on his way to be hanged.
203. “Sam’l?”
204. “Ay, Sanders.”
205. “Did ye—did ye kiss her, Sam’l?”
206. “Na.”
207. “Hoo?”
208. “There was varra little time, Sanders.”
209. “Half an 'oor,” said Sanders.
210. “Was there? Man Sanders, to tell ye the truth, I never thoct o’t.”
211. Then the soul of Sanders Elshioner was filled with contempt for Sam’l Dickie.
212. The scandal blew over. At first it was expected that the minister would interfere to prevent the union, but beyond intimating from the pulpit that the souls of Sabbath-breakers were beyond praying for, and then praying for Sam’l and Sanders at great length, with a word thrown in for Bell, he let things take their course. Some said it was because he was always frightened lest his young men should intermarry with other denominations, but Sanders explained it differently to Sam’l.
213. “I hav’na a word to say agin the minister,” he said, “they’re gran’ prayers, but, Sam’l, he’s a mairit man himsel.”
214. “He’s a’ the better for that, Sanders, isna he?”
215. “Do ye no see,” asked Sanders, compassionately, “'at he’s tryin’ to mak the best o’t?”
216. “Oh, Sanders, man!” said Sam’l.
217. “Cheer up, Sam’l,” said Sanders, “it’ll sune be ower.”
218. Their having been rival suitors had not interfered with their friendship. On the contrary, while they had hitherto been mere acquaintances, they became inseparables as the wedding-day drew near. It was noticed that they had much to say to each other, and that when they could not get a room to themselves they wandered about together in the churchyard. When Sam’l had anything to tell Bell he sent Sanders to tell it, and Sanders did as he was bid. There was nothing that he would not have done for Sam’l.
219. The more obliging Sanders was, however, the sadder Sam’l grew. He never laughed now on Saturdays, and sometimes his loom was silent half the day. Sam’l felt that Sanders’s was the kindness of a friend for a dying man.
220. It was to be a penny wedding, and Lisbeth Fargus said it was delicacy that made Sam’l superintend the fitting-up of the barn by deputy. Once he came to see it in person, but he looked so ill that Sanders had to see him home. This was on the Thursday afternoon, and the wedding was fixed for Friday.
221. “Sanders, Sanders,” said Sam’l, in a voice strangely unlike his own, “it’ll a’ be ower by this time the morn.”
222. “It will,” said Sanders.
223. “If I had only kent her langer,” continued Sam’l.
224. “It wid hae been safer,” said Sanders.
225. “Did ye see the yallow floor in Bell’s bonnet?” asked the accepted swain.
226. “Ay,” said Sanders, reluctantly.
Flower
227. “I’m dootin’—I’m sair dootin’ she’s but a flichty, lichthearted crittur after a’.”
228. “I had ay my suspeecions o’t,” said Sanders.
229. “Ye hae kent her langer than me,” said Sam’l.
230. “Yes,” said Sanders, “but there’s nae gettin’ at the heart o’ women. Man Sam’l they’re desperate cunnin’.”
231. “I’m dootin’t; I’m sair dootin’t.”
232. “It’ll be a warnin’ to ye, Sam’l, no to be in sic a hurry i’ the futur,” said Sanders.
233. Sam’l groaned.
234. “Ye’ll be gaein up to the manse to arrange wi’ the minister the morn’s mornin’,” continued Sanders, in a subdued voice.
235. Sam’l looked wistfully at his friend.
236. “I canna do’t, Sanders,” he said, “I canna do’t.”
237. “Ye maun,” said Sanders.
238. “It’s aisy to speak,” retorted Sam’l, bitterly
239. “We have a’ oor troubles, Sam’l,” said Sanders, soothingly, “an’ every man maun bear his ain burdens. Johnny Davie’s wife’s dead, an’ he’s no repinin’.”
240. “Ay,” said Sam’l, “but a death’s no a mairitch. We hae haen deaths in our family too.”
241. “It may a’ be for the best,” added Sanders, “an’ there wid be a michty talk i’ the hale country-side gin ye didna ging to the minister like a man.”
242. “I maun hae langer to think o’t,” said Sam’l.
243. “Bell’s mairitch is the morn,” said Sanders, decisively.
244. Sam’l glanced up with a wild look in his eyes.
245. “Sanders,” he cried.
246. “Sam’l?”
247. “Ye hae been a guid friend to me, Sanders, in this sair affliction.”
248. “Nothing ava,” said Sanders; “dount mention’d.”
249. “But, Sanders, ye canna deny but what your rinnin oot o’ the kirk that awfu’ day was at the bottom o’d a’.”
250. “It was so,” said Sanders, bravely.
251. “An’ ye used to be fond o’ Bell, Sanders.”
252. “I dinna deny’t.”
253. “Sanders laddie,” said Sam’l, bending forward and speaking in a wheedling voice, “I aye thocht it was you she likeit.”
254. “I had some sic idea mysel,” said Sanders.
255. “Sanders, I canna think to pairt twa fowk sae weel suited to ane anither as you an’ Bell.”
256. “Canna ye, Sam’l?”
257. “She wid mak ye a guid wife, Sanders. I hae studied her weel, and she’s a thrifty, douce, clever lassie. Sanders, there’s no the like o’ her. Mony a time, Sanders, I hae said to mysel, There’s a lass ony man micht be prood to tak. A’body says the same, Sanders. There’s nae risk ava, man: nane to speak o’. Tak her, laddie, tak her, Sanders; it’s a grand chance, Sanders. She’s yours for the spierin. I’ll gie her up, Sanders.”
258. “Will ye, though?” said Sanders.
259. “What d’ye think?” said Sam’l.
260. “If ye wid rayther,” said Sanders, politely.
261. “There’s my han’ on’t,” said Sam’l. “Bless ye, Sanders; ye’ve been a true frien’ to me.”
262. Then they shook hands for the first time in their lives; and soon afterwards Sanders struck up the brae to T’Nowhead.
263. Next morning Sanders Elshioner, who had been very busy the night before, put on his Sabbath clothes and strolled up to the manse.
264. “But—but where is Sam’l?” asked the minister; “I must see himself.”
265. “It’s a new arrangement,” said Sanders.
266. “What do you mean, Sanders?”
267. “Bell’s to marry me,” explained Sanders.
268. “But—but what does Sam’l say?”
269. “He’s willin’,” said Sanders.
270. “And Bell?”
271. “She’s willin’, too. She prefers’t.”
272. “It is unusual,” said the minister.
273. “It’s a’ richt,” said Sanders.
274. “Well, you know best,” said the minister
275. “You see the hoose was taen, at ony rate,” continued Sanders. “An I’ll juist ging in til’t instead o’ Sam’l.”
276. “Quite so.”
277. “An’ I cudna think to disappoint the lassie.”
278. “Your sentiments do you credit, Sanders,” said the minister; “but I hope you do not enter upon the blessed state of matrimony without full consideration of its responsibilities. It is a serious business, marriage.”
279. “It’s a’ that,” said Sanders, “but I’m willin’ to stan’ the risk.”
280. So, as soon as it could be done, Sanders Elshioner took to wife T’Nowhead’s Bell, and I remember seeing Sam’l Dickie trying to dance at the penny wedding.
281. Years afterwards it was said in Thrums that Sam’l had treated Bell badly, but he was never sure about it himself.
282. “It was a near thing—a michty near thing,” he admitted in the square.
283. “They say,” some other weaver would remark, “'at it was you Bell liked best.”
284. “I d’na kin,” Sam’l would reply, “but there’s nae doot the lassie was fell fond o’ me. Ou, a mere passin’ fancy’s ye micht say.”
SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS FOR STUDY
1. In a few sentences, state whether the humor of this story centers in the central situation, the several incidents, the dialogue, the character, or in the climax.
2. If in more than one element, name them in the order of their interest, or humor, to you.
3. Does the humor go to the limit of silliness at any point?
4. Point out any passages which are serio-comic.
5. Define (a) Farce, (b) Burlesque, (c) Comedy, (d) Wit, (e) Satire.
6. Point out passages in this or any other stories which illustrate the foregoing types.
7. Name other humorous stories by O. Henry and J. M. Barrie.
8. Name the best humorous story you know
TEN REPRESENTATIVE HUMOROUS STORIES
“The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County,” Mark Twain, in Short Stories and Sketches, Vol. I.
“Mike Grady’s Safety,” Will Lewis, Everybody’s Magazine, Aug., 1905.
“Their First Formal Call,” Grace MacGowan Cooke, in volume of same title.
“The Day of the Dog,” George Barr McCutcheon, in volume of same title.
“Edgar, the Choir-Boy Uncelestial,” McClure’s Magazine, Jan., 1902.
“The Pope’s Mule,” Alphonse Daudet, translated in Short-Story Masterpieces.
“Colonel Starbottle for the Plaintiff,” Bret Harte, Harper’s Magazine, Mar , 1901
“The Phonograph and the Graft,” O. Henry, in Cabbages and Kings.
“The King of Boyville,” William Allen White, in Tales from McClure’s.
“The Bob-tailed Car,” Brander Matthews, in The Family Tree.
